


A Haunting

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles AU's [8]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Ghost Hiccup AU, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Astrid Hofferson discovers a town mystery while recovering from cardiac surgery.





	A Haunting

**A Haunting**

**-**

“Take it easy,” they tell her. “Give it time. Get some rest.”

Astrid Hofferson does none of those things. The minute she’s allowed out of bed, she’s on her feet. As soon as the doctor clears her for physical activity, she’s lacing up her tennis shoes and learning the jogging paths that weave around her new home.

Berk is a sleepy little town, quiet and dull and “very relaxing”. An environment that’s “conducive to the recovery process”. According to her mother, it’s “quaint”, and according to the real estate agent, the community college up the road is known statewide for its writing program. If only she wrote.

It’s picturesque, if nothing. Lots of pastures and fields that make jogging easy on the eyes. Better than the tall skyscrapers and construction sites she’s used to. The park that was recently erected by the college hosts a variety of pretty flowers and fancy trees, and even a few fountains that she uses to wash the sweat from her face.

The only problem is  _the cat._

 _The cat_  is a menace. It stalks her as she jogs, meowing up at her and trotting next to her. With black, black fur and eyes that look like a pair of bright green earrings her Nana wore,  _the cat_ resembles a witch’s familiar. No matter what route she takes,  _the cat_  finds her and weaves through her legs and nips at her ankles. More than once she’s gone flying to her hands and knees trying not to turn  _the cat_  into roadkill.

Today, Astrid has had enough. When she turns the corner onto main street and the cat takes up its usual habit of following at her heels, Astrid stops and nudges it away with her foot. 

“Go away,” she hisses at it, flicking her fingers at it in an attempt to startle the creature. “Go! Shoo!”

The cat stares and yowls at her. It stretches out and scratches its claws on the sidewalk before sitting straight again. 

“Leave me alone!” She stomps her foot in an incredibly mature manner, fists balled at her sides. Her voice carries something between a growl and a whine. “I don’t like cats!”

It stares. She fumes.

With an exasperated sigh, Astrid kneels and picks up the feline none too gently. It squirms, but she holds tight so that she can read the silver fish-shaped name tag hanging from its collar. “Toothless,” she reads.

There’s a phone number below that. Pulling out her cell phone, she pauses her workout playlist and dials the unfamiliar digits. It goes straight to voicemail. A young man speaks into her ear.

“Hey, this is Hiccup. If you’re trying to reach the garage, try 555-0142. If you want my dad, his office number is on the county website. If you actually meant to call _me_ , leave a message after the beep. Talk to— Toothless! Off the work table!” He’s cut off by the generic answering machine  _boop_.

Astrid squints up at the early morning sky and wrinkles her nose. It’s not long after sunrise, so she’s not surprised that nobody answers. “Hi, this is Astrid Hofferson. I think I have your cat. It keeps following me around. Give me a call at this number. Bye.”

She hangs up without any pleasantries, slipping the phone back in her pocket. When she tries to stand, Toothless still in her arms, the cat makes a low grumbling noise and twists free. It runs off towards the trees.

“ _Cat_!” she shouts, like a swear. She’s literally just told somebody that their pet is in her possession, and now it’s running away. After all that effort she spent trying to get it to leave.

Whatever. She’s jogging that direction anyways. Brushing black fur off of her unzipped sweatshirt, she starts after Toothless at her usual pace. Her ankles welcome the soft packed dirt of the nature trail after the hard slap of the concrete under her soles. The pinkish blue rays of morning sunshine wink through the woods as she chases the neighborhood nuisance.

And it  _is_ a chase. Just as she comes across the cat, Toothless looks up to see her approaching and darts off again. But it’s not as if he’s trying to evade her— it’s almost as if he’s waiting for her at each stop, pacing back and forth until his ears prick at the sound of her footfalls over crunching leaves. Even if she slows to try and pick him up, he meowls and looks back at her until she starts to follow again. 

Her heart rate starts to get a little high. Her mother would lose her mind if she could hear the hand-held assistant to her ICM beeping warningly at Astrid’s hip. She feels a tight discomfort in her chest, but she’s learned to tell when a sensation is related to her POS heart and when it’s just overexertion. Instead of slowing or resting like she usually does at the first sign of trouble, she presses after the cat. It’s become a matter of personal pride now.

"Toothless!” she calls after it, hearing little feline paws dashing through fallen leaves and out of sight. “Damn cat, hold up for a second!”

The nature trail goes farther than she remembers. It’s only been a couple of weeks since they moved to Berk, so she’s still learning the paths. She does suddenly remember the fork that divides the trail somewhere behind her. The left side is supposed to take her to the park— her usual destination— and the right side is supposed to lead out to the highway on the other side of main street. She’s getting close enough that she can hear cars passing faintly in their morning commutes.

“Toothless!” she says again, gasping for air. Astrid has to stop. She leans over, pressing her hands into her knees, and swears to herself as she catches her breath. It would’ve made more sense just to go about her regular routine. That stupid cat always finds her anyway.

Then she hears a meow. Her head snaps up. Toothless is perched on a tree root, tilting his head at her and blinking those weirdly neon green eyes. But he’s not alone. 

She feels her heart pound. There’s a guy her age standing at the end of the nature trail, just where the woods are supposed to open to the street. When her eyes land on him, Toothless turns and starts rubbing fondly against the guy’s legs. Which wouldn’t be so weird if his left pants’ leg wasn’t stained dark red. His skin is deathly pale, his busted lips slightly parted. Blood is caked in his hair and smeared down his ear and neck. 

Astrid’s hand flies to her mouth to hold back a scream. Concern hits her first. But that’s quickly replaced by a blood-chilling terror. Injured boys alone in the woods are startling. Injured boys alone in the woods that you can see through are dead.

“Who— who are you?” she whispers, taking a step back.

The guy blinks at her, his eyes going wide and his brows slipping high. He takes a limping step forward, and then another. Tilting his head in an odd echo of Toothless’ contemplative gaze, he gives her a curious expression and points a scraped index finger to his chest. 

_You can see me?_

The beeping of her assistant is reaching a new pitch. It doesn’t like the way fear is making her heart race. Still, Astrid nods. She wonders if one of the side effects of quitting her pain meds is hallucinations.

The boy’s expression drops into something like wonder. She can’t help but notice that  _his_ eyes are green too, though not the eerie florescence of that devil cat. He takes another couple of pained steps forward, and though Astrid  _dearly_  wants to turn and run, she’s frozen in place. His bruised and bloody lips start to curl upwards at the edges, forming something like an awestruck smile. Then he stops just inches from her. 

“You’re dead,” she whispers, throat thick and hard to speak through. 

The guy tilts his head and shrugs. Gives her a sheepish nod. His gaze roams down her body, seemingly taking in her workout attire. It stops on its return journey to her face— at her chest. Other girls would choose to be offended by ghosts staring at her boobs. Astrid, however, is used to the stares. She knows he’s only looking at the incision where they sliced into her and cracked her chest open. It’s bright pink, still healing, and impossible to miss.

He points to the scar and screws up his face. His brows are furrowed with confusion. 

_Are you dead too?_

Astrid shakes her head. Her breaths scrape in and out of her lungs like the wire mesh her mother uses to scrub dishes clean. The inside of her chest feels that raw. Burns that much. She can’t seem to get enough oxygen past her tight throat while it’s making room for a scream.

The guy blinks, astonished. Then his shaking hand stretches further, pointed finger trembling until it slowly reaches her sternum. Ice splinters out from his frigid touch. Astrid hears her assistant begin its panic alarm just as the world tilts and her eyes flutter closed. 

_Hiccup! Hiccup! Can you hear me?_

Red and blue lights flash behind her lids. 

_Sir, I need you to step back._

The smell of burning rubber stings her nostrils, and a harsh screech fills her ears. Somewhere very close, she hears the deafening crash of metal on metal and a scattered thud of a body hitting asphalt. In her mind’s eye, she sees a license plate. Makes out some numbers.

**RED 03478**

_Gods, no! Hiccup… Hiccup!_

_We’re going to have to cut the helmet off. Hand me— someone get the father out, please!_

_Please, no! Let me stay with him! Let me stay with my son!_

Everything hurts. Everything is pain. 

_Hiccup!_

Astrid wakes up in a hospital bed. She knows before she even opens her eyes, because she can smell sickness all around her and the EKG is beeping annoyingly at her side. She’s spent her life in hospital beds. This one is as familiar as any other she’s ever slept in. 

Artificial lights flood her vision. Her mom’s face appears in front of her. 

“Astrid!” Her voice is thick with tears and relief. “Oh, my sweet girl. How do you feel? Are you okay?”

Astrid lifts a heavy hand to her chest. Finds the scar through the thin fabric of her hospital gown. She nods, but she doesn’t speak. Her eyes aren’t even on her mother.

They’re on the dead boy at the foot of her bed. 


End file.
